Someone To Depend On
by frodolove12
Summary: The summer after fifth year, Draco Malfoy must come to live with Harry Potter. When Draco learns new things about the Boy Who Lived, he writes a letter to Snape, which leads to change for both boys. Can the two manage to become friends? Nonslash.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello there! If you've read my previous version of this story, I ask you to please reread the new version I'm making. I wasn't happy with the quality of the first version of this story, and I was younger and newer to writing when I started it. I want to give something back to my readers, so I think a better quality story is something that I can do. Don't worry about the storyline being lost or this never being updated; it's basically the same story line, but it will be much better and have much more content :) Thank you so much if you're giving this another shot! If you've never read this before, then I hope you enjoy this Harry and Draco friendship fic ! Thanks, love and lightning bolts xx

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not profiting from this in any way, only having a bit of fun with the characters ;)

He was alone, yet again, with only his reflection in the lake for company. The sun would set soon, and he would have to go in. He kept this thought in the back of his mind, for it was a reality he didn't want to face. It was so much nicer to just sit here, his back against the sturdy weight of the beech tree, and stare at the shimmering surface of the water. The tree anchored his body to the ground, for without it he might not stay, might just float away and never come back.

It had been this way for the past week, ever since Harry and the others had gotten back from the Ministry. A numbness had settled upon him that he couldn't quite explain, but he knew it was there. It was always there, seeping into his every pore. For without the numbness he would be left to his feelings, those traitorous emotions that he was sure would completely destroy him. It was better this way, not to be around any of his friends. He couldn't bear their expressions, the way they talked so carefully to him, treating him as if he were something fragile. Deep down, he knew he didn't deserve their sympathy. Perhaps they were just lying to him, telling him it wasn't his fault when they truly thought he was to blame for everything that had happened to them.

So Harry Potter continued to sit alone out by the lake, having told his friends that he had eaten earlier and wasn't full, slipping away from them so they could enjoy their dinner in peace. He didn't know how long he sat there, but this place had become a retreat for him over the last week. The whispering of the other students followed him everywhere, their covert glances boring holes into him and stripping away any fleeting desire to be around people. People knew not to bother him here. They had tried at first, tried talking to him, but had gotten the point when he simply ignored them, his eyes glazed over and staring at the water.

A little after the sun had set, Harry heard soft footsteps making their way toward him. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around them, when Hermione approached.

"Harry?" came Hermione's soft quiet voice, touched with concern. Harry lifted his gaze to meet her eyes as she knelt next to him, her robes softly settling around her. She shivered slightly in the cool night air, the sun having set already. "Are you okay?" she asked even more quietly, her hand reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Hermione wasn't quite sure why she was asking, because she knew that Harry wasn't okay. A longing filled her to reach out and put her arms around him, to reassure him that everything would be all right, even if she didn't know if she believed that herself.

Harry turned his head at the sound of her voice, his eyes still holding that dreamy quality. Blinking a few times, Harry nodded in response to her question. The shadowy air continued to cool around them, a wind whipping up the branches overhead and lifting up the edges of their cloaks.

"You should come inside," said Hermione.

"All right," said Harry grudgingly, knowing that night was falling and that curfew would probably end any minute; he didn't want Hermione to be caught missing curfew, and he knew she was stubborn enough to stay out here with him until he came inside with her.

The pair made their way across the empty grounds, their feet making soft sounds against the grass. Shivering, Hermione drew her cloak closer around herself. A few stars had popped out already, shining weakly through a film of hazy clouds.

When they reached the front door, they found that it hadn't been locked for the night. Slipping inside quietly, Hermione pushed the large wooden door shut behind her, a thudding noise filling the air despite her efforts to be quiet. Harry waited for her, hands in the pockets of his robes, and set off as soon as she was finished.

They were on the fifth floor when a student approached them, a third year Gryffindor they had talked to a few times. He jogged up to them, a roll of thick parchment tucked into his hand.

"Harry!" he said, holding out the little scroll. Harry took it without opening it, merely allowing it to sit in the palm of his hand, a lilac ribbon tied around it.

"Dumbledore told me to give that to you," said the third year, and when Harry didn't answer Hermione thanked him and the boy left. Turning back to Harry, she saw that he had untied the ribbon and was scanning the loopy words inked onto the parchment.

"I've got to go see him. It doesn't say why," said Harry, a small frown in place on his face.

"Do you want me to walk with you there?" asked Hermione, glad that she could hear a trace of curiosity in Harry's voice.

"I'll be fine. You should go get some rest," said Harry with a weak smile, stowing the note into his pocket.

"See you later," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe to give Harry a quick kiss on the cheek before setting off for the common room. Harry stood in the same spot for a moment, his hand reaching up to touch the spot where her lips had touched his skin.

Harry quickly found the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Pulling out the note again, Harry saw a postscript: _Jelly Slugs are a favorite of mine. _

"Jelly slugs," said Harry, and the gargoyle sprang aside to reveal the winding staircase that led to the Headmaster's office. The stairs started moving, twisting him up to a door, which stood slightly ajar. Knocking, Harry heard a voice call, "Enter."

Harry stopped in his tracks when he saw who was sitting in a seat across from Dumbledore. He would know that pale hair anywhere, and he didn't want to be anywhere near him.

"Have a seat, Harry," said Dumbledore with a smile, his blue eyes as twinkly as ever. An aged hand moved over Fawkes's head, who sat on a perch near the desk. Thinking that it would be especially rude to walk out of the Headmaster's office, Harry took the only other chair, right next to Malfoy. He leaned as far away as he could, shooting the blond boy a customary look of distate.

"Good to see you, my boy," said Dumbledore.

"Good to see you too, Professor," said Harry, though an awkwardness settled into his words. The last time he had seen Dumbledore, Harry had shouted at him and thrown his possessions around his office. Harry noticed, with a quick glance around the room, that most of them seemed to have suffered no permanent damage.

"I'm sure you are wondering why you are here," said Dumbledore, steepling his long fingers together as he looked at the two boys sitting across from him.

"Yes, sir," answered Harry.

"As you are aware, only a few short weeks ago Lucius Malfoy and other Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban for the occurrence at the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore continued on. Harry twisted uncomfortably in his seat, not wanting to be reminded of this. All he had been trying to do lately was avoid the nightmares that plagued him about that place, causing him to twist and turn in bed and break out into cold sweats. Malfoy didn't want to be reminded either; ever since his father had been sent to Azkaban, he had been the subject of much pointing and whispering, even from other Slytherins.

"Draco's mother has decided to leave the Death Eaters and go into hiding with the Order," said Dumbledore, and Harry thought his mouth might have dropped open in surprise. A Malfoy, going with the order? Harry glanced at Draco to see how he took this news, but he seemed to have already known about it; his jaw was clenched tightly shut, but other than that he showed no emotion.

"As such, Draco also needs somewhere safe to be, since he would be good bait to use to get his mother back," Dumbledore said gravely. "He had protected while at Hogwarts, which has very powerful magic surrounding it. However, Draco cannot go back to his home, for two reasons. The first is that his father placed many enchantments around the place, and since his wand has been taken from him while in Azkaban, he cannot uphold them. The second reason is that the Death Eaters, and Voldemort, all had access to the Malfoy home."

Dumbledore paused to let the words sink in. He appeared to be choosing his next words carefully, and now he turned the full power of his gaze onto Harry.

"As I'm sure you know, Harry, your house is one of the safest places anywhere. Voldemort cannot enter it because of the powerful blood magic that encases it, not to mention the many enchantments placed around it. Your home would be the best possible place for Draco to hide, and also the least expected."

The weight of Dumbledore's words hit Harry. "Are you kidding me?" he burst out angrily. The Dursleys were awful enough, but with Malfoy there it would be unbearable. "Why can't Malfoy just go into hiding with his mother?" he spat out.

"We believe it would be easier for Death Eaters to find them together. Also, no Death Eaters can come to your house, Harry, and Draco's mother wants him to be as safe as he can possibly be."

Harry stared angrily at Dumbledore, pressing his lips tightly together. He didn't need this right now, not on top of everything else that had happened this year. Draco was upset too, but Dumbledore had explained everything to him before Harry got here, and as much as he protested Dumbledore wouldn't be swayed.

"Well, then everything is settled," said Dumbledore brightly. "You two will go home with the Dursleys once term ends later this week," said Dumbledore, looking between the two boys whose arms were crossed across their chests and were wearing nearly identical expressions of irritation.

"But the Dursleys will never let another wizard in the house," said Harry, thinking he had found a way out of this mess. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated as much as they hated Harry, it was the magical world and anyone else who was in it. To Harry's annoyance, Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"I have already talked to your aunt and uncle, and they have agreed to take in Draco. You'll find that I can be rather persuasive when need be. So, if that is all, I suggest you two go get a good night's sleep," Dumbledore said, gesturing toward the door, dismissing the boys. Harry wanted to stay and argue, sure that this was the worst mistake Dumbledore could possibly make, but he was tired and knew that nothing he said would work. Dumbledore never listened to his opinions about things before, and he wasn't expecting him to now. The anger that had swelled within him during their last meeting was still there, bubbling in the pit of his stomach, but if he stayed here much longer he might start screaming again. He didn't want that to happen; he just wanted the numbness that overcame him at the lake to return again.

Draco followed him out of the room, his footsteps muffled by the carpet on the floor.

"Just great," spat out Draco, his tone biting. Harry didn't say anything to him, just turned down a hallway to get away from him as fast as possible, leaving Malfoy to slink off to the dungeons. When he reached the tower, Harry told the fat lady the password and entered to see Ron and Hermione awake and waiting for them by the fire, a book in Hermione's lap.

"Harry, are you okay? You look really upset," said Hermione anxiously, rising up to meet Harry and give him a quick hug. Harry just sat down, avoiding her eyes. He didn't want Hermione to worry about him and he didn't want to get into his conversation with Dumbledore. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and not wake up for several days. But they were his friends, and he knew he couldn't ignore them forever, as he had been doing for the past week.

"Malfoy has to stay with me this summer," he said, trying to keep his voice void of emotion but not able to control the edge of anger that crept into it. They both stared at him for a moment before saying anything.

"What? Why?" asked Ron loudly, looking horrified. Harry explained everything to them, and they both were at a loss of what to say. Ron just sat there looking dazed, and Hermione brought a hand to her mouth and stared at Harry with sympathetic eyes. Harry was glad that they weren't saying anything.

"I'm so sorry," said Hermione, coming over and sitting next to him, putting a bracing arm on his shoulder.

"I'm going to bed," he muttered, abruptly standing up and leaving Hermione looking hurt. Harry went upstairs and got into his bed as soon as he had changed, wrenching the hangings closed around him. As much as he wanted to sleep, he tossed and turned with thoughts of Malfoy and the Dursleys, every fiber of his being filled with dread for the day when the Hogwarts Express left.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that week found Harry, Ron, and Hermione speeding away from the castle on the Hogwarts express. Harry, who had been in a sour mood all morning, was stonily staring out the window at the scenery flashing by, clumps of thick trees and winding rivers giving way to tame countryside fields.

"Er-Harry?" said Hermione softly, after several failed attempts to coax Harry into casual conversation.

"What?" said Harry, his tone rough and loud compared to the gentle voice Hermione had been using.

"It's just- Ron and I want you to know we're here for you. We'll write you everyday if you want," she answered, softening Harry's hard expression.

"Thanks. Sorry for being such a jerk. This whole Malfoy thing has just got me freaked out," Harry said, looking down at his hands, which were clenched tightly in his lap.

"It's alright. I'm sure anyone would be a little tense in your situation," said Hermione sympathetically.

They spent the remainder of the ride laughing and talking together, but there was still the tension in the air that none of them talked about. Finally, the train jerked to a slow stop after what seemed to Harry like an impossibly short journey. He was struck, as he had been before, by the idea to just refuse to leave the train. Instead of doing so, Harry reluctantly stood up. They got their trunks down, apprehension rising in Harry by the second. As they exited the train, Hermione turned to give a Harry a kiss on the cheek and the repeated promise to write to him before she dashed off to see her parents, who welcomed her with beaming smiles and big hugs. Harry couldn't help the pang of jealousy that shot through him at the sight.

"See you, mate," said Ron, clapping him on the shoulder as Mrs. Weasley came over and gave him her usual hug and kiss. The whole Weasley family gave Harry cheery goodbyes, and he couldn't help but think that they were all going off to a very different summer than he was.

Dumbledore had agreed that Harry and Draco would have to wait until everyone had left the platform before meeting up with the Dursleys, in case any Slytherins saw them leaving together and reported it to their possibly Death Eater parents.

"Your little lovefest was quite cute, Potter," said Malfoy with a smirk, who had appeared out of nowhere and was leaning against one of the pillars that dotted the platform. Harry didn't have the energy right now to come up with a smart reply, so he merely turned his back on Malfoy and took a seat on a nearby bench, waving goodbye to the students as they trickled out into the muggle world.

After they were sure that everyone was gone, Harry and Draco cautiously made their way through the barrier separating them from King's Cross. Harry's stomach sank as he immediately spotted his aunt, uncle, and cousin far enough away from platforms nine and ten that you wouldn't think they were waiting for anyone there.

"Well, that's them over there. Let's go," said Harry, walking away and not bothering to check if Malfoy was following him.

Uncle Vernon glared down at them as they approached. "Took you long enough, boy," he snarled, checking the wristwatch that was around his fat wrist. "Do you think I have all day to wait for you?"

Draco was rather taken aback by this, but didn't show his surprise. He was even more surprised when Harry ignored his uncle, since Potter didn't usually back down from arguments. Malfoy also knew that Dumbledore had written to Harry's relatives explaining the time difference, so it puzzled him why Vernon was acting like this was news to him.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Harry said. "Malfoy, this is my Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and cousin Dudley," he said, with an odd tone to his voice that Draco couldn't quite place.

"Pleasure to meet you," Draco said smoothly, pulling out his best pureblood manners that he always used at his father's dinner parties.

"Yes,yes," said Uncle Vernon dismissively. "That other freak that we have to take in. Now let's get going." With that, Vernon turned and started walking back to the parking lot, Draco standing in his spot. How dare that muggle call him a freak?

"C'mon," said Harry, grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him off after the muggles, who hadn't even waited for them to catch up and were several feet ahead of them.

Once they had reached the neat little company car, Harry took Draco's things without a word and put them into the trunk of the car. Draco was yet again surprised. Since when did Harry Potter ever do anything nice for him? He climbed into the car, Harry sitting in between Draco and Dudley. Draco couldn't help but notice how odd the silent car ride was. Surely Potter's relatives were dying to know how he was after the long school year? But no. There were only the odd glaring looks every so often, which Harry returned in equal measure, his green eyes snapping with anger.

Once they had reached the house, a tidy suburban muggle house, the Dursleys got out of the car without a word to the boys. Harry was retrieving their things out of the trunk when Draco came up to Harry.

"What's going on here, Potter?" he asked, honestly confused about what was happening between Potter and his relatives.

Harry just shook his head and began dragging his trunk up the walk, holding out the handle of Draco's so he could do the same.

When they entered, Uncle Vernon was there waiting. "You two go upstairs. Not a sound, or you won't get any dinner," he growled, before stomping off to do whatever it was that he had to do. Harry watched him go with that glare back in place, but didn't say anything to being spoken to so roughly. After a few moments, Harry gestured for Draco to follow him back up the stairs and into his room.

Once they reached Harry's room, Draco glanced around, eyebrows raised. The room was small, shabby, and sparsely furnished.

"Nice room," he said with a smirk, noticing the cat flap and various locks on the door. This room was the opposite of his own at home, which included a king sized bed, beautiful furnishings picked out by his mother, and a house elf ready whenever he needed anything.

"Well you have to stay here too, so get used to it," Harry snapped back.

"Planning to tell me why your relatives are glaring at you like you killed their cat? Did you?" asked Draco, the smirk still in place on his face.

"No, I didn't. They just-" Harry seemed to struggle with what to tell him. "Forget it," he finally muttered, turning his back to Draco as pulled his trunk into a corner of the room.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" asked Draco, noticing for the first time that there was only one bed. There was no way that he was sleeping on the floor, or even worse, sharing that cramped space with Potter.

Harry noticed their dilemma too, a furrow forming between his brows.

"You can sleep on the bed," he answered.

"And where will you sleep?" asked Draco, arching his eyebrow. He hoped Potter wasn't getting any ideas.

"Why do you care, Malfoy? I'll just get some sheets and things and sleep on the floor. But the bed won't be much better than that, either," he answered, rough tone back in place.

Malfoy shrugged. If Potter wanted to sleep on the floor, it didn't bother him.

They spent the hour before dinner not talking to each other. Draco was reading a book to pass the time and Harry was writing a letter to Ron and Hermione. When they heard the loud "Boys! Dinner!" they got up and went downstairs, Draco noting the reluctance in Harry's step. They came downstairs to a dinner of roast beef and mashed potatoes. Harry sat next to his cousin, Draco opposite them. Draco noted how much less Harry got than the rest of his relatives, and that even Draco was given more than him. That was odd. He also watched his cousin look at Harry's food after he had finished off his own, piggy eyes looking at it greedily. Harry looked at him with disgust but offered it to him. Even odder. While Aunt Petunia pulled an apple pie out of the oven, she gestured at Harry, who stood without comment and began to take away the dinner dishes and pull down new ones. Draco couldn't believe his eyes when Potter wasn't offered any dessert, but instead began to do the dishes.

When dinner was finished, the Dursleys went off to watch TV while Harry finished cleaning up, wiping down the table and starting on the dessert dishes.

"You can go upstairs," Harry said quietly, without turning his back, seeming to know that Draco was unsure of what to do. Draco hesitated, hearing the dangerous tone to Potter's voice and seeing the tightness of his muscles. Draco left after a few moments.

Draco knew he could have helped. But he didn't. He was still to shocked to think properly. As he lay on his bed, he gazed out at the dusk starting to fall, wondering what the rest of the summer would hold.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A couple people said I uploaded chapter 1 instead of chapter 3, but others didn't seem to have this problem. To avoid confusion, I'm re-uploading chapter 3, which is the right chapter. Sorry for the confusion and hope you enjoy it !

Draco woke the next morning to the feeling of warm sunshine on his face. He rolled over on the bed, which wasn't the most comfortable in the world, and was a little confused about where he was at first. The smell of breakfast cooking drifted up to him, and then the occurrences of last night came flooding back to him. He was at Potter's house. He would be for the whole summer. Wonderful.

Draco groaned and got up, knowing he probably couldn't stay in bed all morning. He walked over to his trunk and grabbed some newly purchased muggle clothes along with his toothbrush and toothpaste and made his way across the hall to the bathroom Potter had shown him previously. He changed, brushed his teeth, and washed his face. Draco thought he looked like a pretty normal muggle. He had on dark blue jeans, sneakers, and a green and blue striped polo. His hair hung around his face and in his eyes, which was odd for him, but he had forgotten to bring hair gel. Draco wasn't very fond of the muggle clothes, however, and wished he was back at home wearing the best robes money could buy. Dumbledore had given him clear instructions, however, that he was to try and blend in as best as possible.

Draco descended the stairs to see the family seated around the kitchen table. Uncle Vernon was reading the paper while Aunt Petunia and Dudley just sat there, clearly waiting to be served breakfast. Draco glanced toward the kitchen, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Potter standing at the stove. Uncle Vernon glanced at Draco, and seemed surprised that he looked normal, but didn't comment and ignored him as he sat down.

"Hurry up, boy. Some people have got jobs to get too," said Uncle Vernon nastily. Harry didn't say anything, but Draco thought he saw his fist clench at his side while his uncle was talking. A few minutes later, Harry brought over a plate of toast, a plate of eggs, a plate of sausage and bacon, and pitcher of orange juice. He then walked back to the kitchen, Draco assumed to clean up. But wasn't he going to eat? Why would he make all of that and not eat any of it?

Draco helped himself to some breakfast, noting distastefully how much Vernon and Dudley seemed to consume. When they had finished, Harry began to clear away dishes, just like he had done last night. Draco watched, but still Potter didn't eat. Draco was pulled out of his thoughts by Uncle Vernon's booming voice.

"Here are your chores for the day. They'd better be done by the time I get back. Or else," he said, handing Harry a list. Harry didn't look at the list or say anything, his eyes fixed on Vernon's.

"Understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry, a hard edge to his voice. Draco could hear the intense emotion in his voice, and it surprised Draco that Harry sounded like he hated the man so much.

Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to say something, but glanced at his watch and made his way out the door after giving Petunia a quick kiss on the cheek. Once Vernon had left, Petunia handed Harry one of the leftover pieces of toast from breakfast, snapping at Harry to get on with his work. Harry walked back into the kitchen and began to finish the dishes. Draco was torn between helping him and going back upstairs. But since Potter was ignoring him, Draco assumed that he wanted to pretend he wasn't there, which was probably a good idea if they wanted to survive their time together. Draco made his way upstairs as Harry's aunt and cousin sat down in front of the TV.

Draco used the quiet time to get a head start on his schoolwork. He normally didn't do his work until the last week or two of summer, but he didn't really see what else he could do here, besides help Potter with his chores, which apparently Potter didn't want him to do. And it wasn't like he could go spend time with Potter's relatives; it seemed perfectly clear to Draco that they wanted nothing to do with him. Draco glanced out the window a few times to see Potter sweating in the summer heat as he mowed the lawn or weeded the flower bed. At around noon, Harry came inside to start lunch. Draco didn't come down, not really wanting to see Dudley eat again.

When dinner rolled around, Harry was cooking, again. When Draco came down, he once again found the family seated around the table. Uncle Vernon had clearly just come home from work, his suit jacket behind his chair and briefcase near the door.

Potter served them all dinner, and Draco had to admit that Potter was a good cook, even better than Petunia. Draco was excluded from the conversation, which was fine with him. Potter still worked in the kitchen. Draco was beginning to get annoyed. Wasn't he going to eat anything he had cooked?

When Potter came over to clean up the dishes, his uncle spoke up.

"Finished all your chores, did you?" he said. Harry tensed up before answering.

"Yes, sir," he said through clenched teeth.

Draco went upstairs shortly after. Potter came up once the dishes were finished.

Draco could see that he looked exhausted, no doubt from working all day. His baggy clothes almost seemed to hang off him. Draco wasn't sure if Harry had had any dinner. Draco wanted to say something, but didn't know what he should. The rest of the evening passed in silence, as they had spent the evening before; both of them did their best to pretend they weren't in this situation, Draco mulling over everything that had happened so far. Maybe Potter's relatives were acting like this because Potter was being punished? That would explain the extra chores; perhaps Potter had done something to them at the end of last summer. Yes, that would have to be it.

When night rolled around, Draco once again set himself up in the bed, falling almost immediately asleep. Harry tried his best to make himself comfortable on the floor, but he was so tired that he too fell into a deep sleep.

Later that night, Draco woke up from a deep sleep he was in. He was confused for a moment as to why he had woken up, until he heard the sounds again. Looking around in the darkness, he saw Harry thrashing around on the floor. "No… Sirius…," he cried out, and then screamed. Loudly. Draco sat up in bed, and heard thundering footsteps coming toward the room. A booming knocking started pounding on the door, and Harry sat up in surprise, gasping.

Uncle Vernon opened the door, clad in bathrobe in slippers.

"I thought I told you last summer to stop with all this nonsense! How do you expect my family and I to get any sleep with you screaming all night?" he growled at Harry, seeing that he had woken up. Harry didn't answer him, just wrapped his arms around his knees and shivered.

"Not another sound, boy, or you won't be very happy," he threatened, stomping out and shutting the door.

Harry, still breathing heavily, sank back onto the floor, shaking. Draco hesitantly got out of bed and came over to where he was sitting.

"Potter, are you all right?" he asked uneasily. Harry nodded, turning away from him, and muttered that he was sorry for waking him up. Harry rolled over onto his shoulder and ignored Draco, who, after hesitating for a few moments, returned to the bed.

Potter's nightmare had shaken Draco. That scream…shivering slightly, Draco pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and started to drift off. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed that Harry's breathing never deepened, and that he stayed awake, staring at the moon through his windows.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco woke the next morning, once again to the feel on sunshine and without Potter in the room. He yawned and sat up, thinking about last night. Harry's scream had been jarring, and Draco had actually felt bad for him. Shaking his head to clear it of such dangerous thoughts, Draco rose from the bed and stretched before grabbing some clothes and heading to the bathroom. When he emerged, he looked just like a muggle. Draco was a bit amazed at the transformation.

When Draco entered the kitchen, no one was in it but Potter, who was sitting at the kitchen table. A piece of toast was in his hand, raised halfway to his mouth while Potter stared intently at a piece of paper before him. Draco pulled out a chair and sat across from Potter, helping himself to a piece of toast from the plate that was on the table.

Harry set the piece of paper he was looking at down and frowned, absentmindedly thrumming his fingers on the tabletop.

"Something wrong, Potter?" asked Draco after a few minutes, feeling a bit awkward about the way Potter was gazing off into the distance. Once Draco spoke, Harry seemed to realize where he was and pulled himself back to the present, glancing at Draco like he was seeing him for the first time. In response to Draco's question, Harry slid the paper he had been looking at across to Draco. Draco scanned it and saw a list of neatly written tasks:

_Wash Windows_

_Trim Bushes_

_Water Plants _

_Clean out the Shed_

"Are you supposed to do all this?" asked Draco.

Harry gave him a wry smile. "There aren't any house elves here," he said, standing up and bringing the few remaining dishes to the sink. Harry rinsed them off, then made his way toward the door.

"Wait," said Draco just before Harry reached the door. Harry paused for a moment, then turned around to face Draco.

"Yes?" he asked, looking at Draco curiously.

"It's just..I…maybe I could help you?" Draco managed to get out, feeling a flush creep up his cheeks as he did so. Harry stared at him like he'd grown another head before letting out a laugh.

"Is this a joke, Malfoy?" he asked, traces of laughter still in his voice.

"No," said Draco stiffly. "I was just being a courteous guest. Malfoys always are."

"You want to help me work?" Harry said, tone incredulous.

"Yes, Potter, that's what I said," said Malfoy, placing his customary sneer on his face.

"Why would you want to do that? I thought doing work was beneath you, "said Harry.

"I'm pretty bored," responded Draco truthfully. What alternative did he have? He could help or he could spend the whole day in that cell of a bedroom. "And like I said, Malfoys are always courteous."

"You think this will be a fun way to pass the time?" asked Harry with a grin.

"No, I'd just like something to do," said Draco, a little defensively. Why did Potter have to make everything so infuriating? He was trying to help, and here was Potter analyzing his motives.

After a few moments, Harry shrugged. "If you want to, I don't really care. Just don't cause more harm than help," he said.

"I'm perfectly capable of a few muggle chores, Potter," said Draco, anger flaring up in him. Here he was offering to help, and Potter acting like he was granting him a favor. And anyway, if muggles could do these things without magic, they couldn't be too difficult.

"Alright then," said Harry with another grin, pulling on the door handle and leading the way outside. The day was scorching, a bright summer sun beating down on the yard with no clouds to soften its glare. No breeze lifted the leaves in the trees or danced through the grass. Everything was still, silent, and without a living soul in sight.

"First I think we should start the windows. That will be the biggest project," Harry said. "I'll go get some sponges and cleaner from inside. Can you get some buckets from the shed and fill them up with water?" Harry asked, tone mocking as he looked at Draco.

"Of course I can," said Draco, sneering. Harry didn't respond, but headed inside to get the supplies. He came out to two buckets filled with water from the hose.

"Wow, you really_ can_ do something. I had my doubts," said Harry, smirking.

"Watch it, Potter," growled Draco. Harry just laughed and started working.

For a few hours, they silently worked on cleaning all the windows they could. Once they were done, Draco had to admit he was tired. The sun was scorching, and he now realized he probably should have put on sunscreen. And there was still more work to do. Maybe offering to help had not been the best idea.

Harry, however, did not appear to be daunted. Harry, however, did not appear to be daunted. He simply glanced at the list. "Next, cleaning up the shed."

Looking at Draco, he smiled and said, "Tired?" in an innocent tone.

"No," answered Draco, irritated. Harry just smiled, walking toward the shed. Halfway there he paused, bent down, and picked up something off the ground. Draco stared at him curiously, then felt a shock roll through his body as he was blasted with a stream of freezing water. Gasping, Draco looked at Harry and saw him doubled over in laughter, the hose in his hand, a stream of water bubbling from its mouth.

Draco, for once, was speechless. "Potter!" he finally managed to spit out, storming over to the boy who was still laughing at Draco's expense. Wrenching the hose from Harry's grip, Draco aimed it at Harry's head and watched in satisfaction as Harry was soaked.

"Malfoy!" he gasped, grabbing the hose back from him and turning it on Draco once more.

"What do we have here?" came a voice suddenly, and Draco felt Harry freeze beside him and look up. Draco followed Harry's gaze to the other side of the yard, where an extremely fat boy was lumbering over to them from, popsicle in hand.

"Looks like I'm interrupting some fun," said Dudley when he finally managed to reach them. Draco noted how Harry's hand had clenched tightly onto the house, knuckles starkly white.

"What do you want, Dudley?" asked Harry, tone clipped and short.

"I just wanted to catch up with my cousin. I don't think we've had time to chat yet," said Dudley, tone mock-innocent.

"What a shame," said Harry coolly, turning away.

Dudley just laughed. "So how was your year? I heard you last night, you know. Who's Sirius? From the sound of it, something bad happened to him. Did he _die? _It's such a shame that everyone close to you dies, isn't it? Your parents, that Cedric bloke, and now Sirius? I'd watch out if I were you," Dudley said, a wide smile on his face as he turned to Draco. "So is this your new boyfriend? Wouldn't want him to turn out the same way as Cedric, would we?"

Before Malfoy even had time to register what was happening, Harry was inches away from Dudley, his wand aimed at his throat.

" If you _ever_ talk about him again, I will curse you," he growled, voice shaking with rage. Draco didn't think he had ever seen him this angry. His green eyes were flashing and the hand that wasn't holding his wand was clenched into a fist. He was practically shaking.

Dudley's small eyes had widened. "You-you can't! You're not allowed!" His drawling manner was gone now, replaced by blubbering fear.

Harry pushed his wand harder into his massive throat. "I don't care. Try me," he snarled.

"I'm telling dad!" Dudley yelled as he waddled away as quickly as he could.

"Stay the hell away from me!" Harry shouted after him. Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of the house, his clenched hands trembling. Draco didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything.

Harry's good mood from this morning had vanished. He was angry and tense all through the rest of the work, and Draco often caught himself looking at those shaking hands. The tension around Harry was palpable, so Draco stayed silent for once. Draco just worked alongside him until Aunt Petunia called them into the house. Harry washed up in the bathroom and then set to work making dinner, still looking murderous. Draco quietly slipped upstairs and then into the bathroom to wash off.

Looking into the mirror, exhausted eyes peered back at him. His face and hands were dirty, and the back of his neck was sunburned. He felt like passing out on the bed right now. He couldn't imagine how Potter was down there making dinner right now.

Draco's thoughts turned toward what Potter's cousin had said. He had to admit, it was a low blow. He knew what Potter's nightmares were about, and he realized it must be a sensitive subject for him. As Draco was lost in these musings, Uncle Vernon came home and he was called to come downstairs. Draco sat and was served by Harry. Uncle Vernon ranted about his day at work through the whole dinner, and Draco happily tuned him out. It wasn't until dessert was served that Draco listened to what was said.

They were all enjoying an apple pie that Petunia had baked earlier that day and Harry had heated up. He was scooping out some vanilla ice cream for them all when Dudley started to speak.

"Hey dad, guess what Potter did today?" he said, a nasty smile playing on his lips. Harry froze in place, glaring at Dudley.

Uncle Vernon looked up, narrowing his eyes. "What?" he said in a low voice.

"He threatened me with his you-know-what," Dudley said, clearly excited now that his father was getting angry.

"He WHAT?" bellowed Uncle Vernon, his face quickly turning purple as his mustache bristled.

"Yep, I was just getting some air and he came over and threatened me for no reason at all. I think he's gone mad," said Dudley, his smile growing larger.

Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of the chair. "What have I told you about endangering my family with your abnormality?" yelled Uncle Vernon, his turning an even darker shade of purple.

Harry wheeled around to face him. "I wouldn't if he would leave me alone! I'm sick of that idiot talking about my dead parents!" retorted Harry, yelling now. Uncle Vernon seemed to swell before he struck Harry in the face, hard. Harry staggered backward into the wall from the force of the blow. Uncle Vernon then grabbed his arm as tightly as he could and threw him toward the stairs.

"Go upstairs. Now," he barked. Harry glared at him before turning around and leaving.

"You," Vernon said, turning to face Draco, "do the dishes." He then stomped off into the family room and collapsed into the armchair in front of the TV. Petunia and Dudley followed, the latter of who looked like he just had been watching a sporting event. It made Draco feel sick. Sure, he didn't like Potter, but he wouldn't want to treat him that way. It just wasn't right. Draco was stunned.

He felt numb as he rinsed the dishes off and put them into the dishwasher. How could this be? He had never imagined Potter's life to be like this. It was horrible. What would he say to Potter? Was there anything he even could say? Draco finished up the dishes and slowly walked up the stairs. He hesitated before the door, then reached for the polished knob.


End file.
